Darkness Overrun
by Tsukia-Kun
Summary: The drow have started there war for the over world...who will win the world for Faerûn!


-My first real fan fiction I guess, read and review as you please. Good and bad helps in the end.

-I own nothing of the Forgotten Realms, but I do own my original characters so please do not use them without asking me first.

* * *

A giant og a man, and a skinny male wearing red robes patterned with white designs walked through the rocky terrian surrounded by thich folds of trees, they were walking upon the base of the spine of the world, along a forgotten trail that ran between Mirabar and Luskan, the sun was setting when the larger male desided to scout ahead. The world was queit now when he started heading back to his companion when the agonised cry ripped through the still air like a twig snapping in a quit forest, birds flew from perched positions as the male ran now. Sweat coated his tanned face, long red hair matted its way down muscular shoulders that were covered by a newly blood stained cloth shirt of little outstanding appearance. His muscles flexed with the brittle made short sword he had use to stop the massive axe that was coming at him from an opposing man protected by thick black coloured armour blazing with the ensign of Lloth, mind raced with the appearance of the figure...these people where not dark elves, the common followers of the spider queen, there massive size and brute force proved that they were unmistakably orc...were the rumours true? Strong legs kicked at the legs of the armoured male as his main registered that his mage companion he just received a deadly blow to the stomach by a second orcs battle axe, he had seen it there was 5 in total and they were all wearing the same armour that covered there entire body. The orc felt the ground coming up to meet him as the unexpected kicked managed not only to sweep him off his feet, but to leave a smashed in dent on the armour. The 4 other orc turned slowly as if in slow motion, the leading one simple deflecting the sword that was thrown at it. There was a time when orc could not do that, but things had changed. The drow were recruiting and training the creatures to fight for them, they were planning on taking over the over world, and the world of late had turned into a war between Drow, Orc, Trolls, Goblins, and other demons against the remaining races of Fearûn: Moon and Golden Elves, Humans, Dwarfs, The Barbarians of the North, and Halflings that haven't refused the oncoming truth. This would be one male who wouldn't be beaten so easily as he was upon the orc as it hit the ground, bare fist slammed into the metallic helmet, the sounding ring stunning the fallen opponent as the second one, not only rung again but caught the helmet underneath lifting it from the creature's face leaving a new area that was quickly attacked, fist crushed down hard, bone broke under the force twice as he left the creature dead upon the ground, skull crushed in.

The male was of course Jeburis Alarkin, a reknown mercenary for hire who was reknown across Fearûn as a brute of a fighter. His death promising voice screamed out a battle cry of furry as he flung himself at the nearest axe wielding orc that swung out with said great axe, hand catching the weapon just below the head, muscles rippled as they reverted the momentum away with ease thanks to his awakening blood lusting rage. A blistering heat seemed to be welling up behind his neck as he tackled the foe to the ground, and in the moment he could spare as he beat his right fist against his opponents helm, and the left disarmed the axe he seen a massive fireball slammed into the remaining orc, and the blazing light was almost to much for his eyes to withstand. But his attention was drawn away as his vision blackened for a moment, a plated fist slamming into his temple. Green shaded eyes seemed to be ablaze with the fire as he looked down, muscles tensing as he brought the heavy axe down over head driving it deeply into the helmet, and the orcs skull killing it as it let out a last blood hampered gurgle.

Chest heaved as he spun to look to the position behind him where the spell had erupted from to see a female drow, adorned in a lose fitting black robe that hugged each curve of her slender body, and hang temptingly off her hips. The attire was embroiled with yellow and green designs that seemed to move, and sparkle...perhaps enchantment. A snake headed whip was rested upon his hip, as were two more orcish warriors standing beside her wielding axes, these ones seemed larger and more bulker then the others. Teeth gritted as he decided that he wouldn't let fear hold him down, but as the female raised her hand and started walking slowly towards him, he found his body unable to move. She hung herself upon him, her devilish smile seemed too be enchanting in the least, and as she spoke to him in the drow tongue he seemed to understand her worlds as if he could speak the language since he was a child.

"We have found you at last warrior; will you come with me back to the Underdark? There's someone who would..._love_ to meet you..." Her voice was like a spell weaving its way into his mind, soft and smooth.

"Of course..." Was all he could reply in his gruff voice, how could he say no?

* * *

Well there it is, hope you enjoyed it. Please Read and Review and I'll get to work on the next chapter I guess 


End file.
